All Aboard, and Nobody Home
by Critical Tortoise
Summary: Ficlet anthology/drabble collection, focusing on the life of Lieutenant Commander Darbington "Darby" Shepard, from her life on Mindoir to the raid on Torfan to the Battle of Earth. Non-game and EU ficlets included.
1. All Aboard, and Nobody Home

**(001) "All Aboard, and Nobody Home"  
CHARACTERS: EDI, Shepard, and Garrus (feat. Tali and Joker)  
****WORDS: 904  
RATING: K+ (there's one reference to alcohol and one use of the word Hell, not in a cursing context, which didn't merit this story being T. Get over it.)  
****TIMES CRIT SNEEZED DURING WRITING PROCESS: 4.332  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The titular ficlet. Shepard has sent her crew on shore leave, opting to stay behind and relax. But her crew might say she relaxed a bit too much... that is, they would say that if they could even get inside. EDIT: Corrected some typos at the behest of Strelok over at . **

Shepard had been staring at the fish tank in her cabin for what seemed, to her, like days. It didn't help that all the fish in it were dead. She was only good at _TAKING _life, not _GIVING IT. _Why the Illusive Man thought it was a good idea to give her a giant fish tank in her quarters was beyond her.

She had tried to make the best of it, though.

She tried taking care of the fish. She really had. There was this beautiful blue one with long fins and fat lips she had gotten on Illium. Tina, she had named it. Yeah. Tina. Why Tina, she didn't remember. She found that she was forgetting a lot of things lately. She had just forgotten two days ago that the crew was on leave after the mission to rescue Miranda's sister.

That had been hell. Luckily, they were back. They only got two days leave, she remembered.

Two days.

How did she spend two days looking at dead fish? How was that even possible? Not a second went by, she thought, where she wasn't sitting in her cabin, either playing Grim Terminus Alliance or looking at dead fish.

Oh, look. One fish was still alive. It wasn't Tina, who was in the last fish's mouth.

Ew.

Her mind was drifting. She was in a rut, she decided. She needed company.

Sighing, she grabbed her cup of coffee (she had remembered it being WARM when she got it a few minutes ago) and walked over to her desk, plopping down in the chair. _Plop. _She giggled a bit. Plop. What a funny word.

...Her mind was wandering too far off. She took a sip of the bitter coffee, her lips puckering -she had forgotten the sugar. What was she thinking about? Oh, right -company. She dumped the drink into the trash can beside her in one fluid motion as she spun around in the chair to face the wall opposite. "EDI," she threw the empty cup at the alcove in front of her, "Hey, EDI! EEEEEEEEDIIIIIIIIIII!"

The globular blue avatar of _Normandy's _resident AI, the _Enhanced Defense Intelligence,_sprouted up from the haptic projector on the alcove's floor. It's pseudofeminine semi-monotone blurted out, "Shepard, I would not advise throwing trash around in your quarters. I know that you would not wish Mess Sergeant Gardner to be forced to enter without your consent and clean up your room."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Shepard waved off in dismissal. "Look... I'm bored. I'll clean it up-"

"If you are so bored, perhaps you should not bore holes in your enemies. Then they may not as inclined to do so to you."

The room fell silent. EDI's avatar pulsated slightly; in rhythm with the humming of the engines and the creaking of Shepard's broken rib as she breathed.

"That was a joke."

Shepard sat there for a moment as if in contemplation. "Look, I'm bored, I'll clean it up later... I'm lonely! There's nobody to talk to! The crew is missing-"

"Shepard, the crew has-"

"_Don't_ interrupt, EDI! You need to learn some manners!" EDI had a niggling feeling that there had been something other than caffeine in the cup Shepard had just tossed away. She scoured through _Normandy's _security archives to confirm this; as she devoted another process to monitoring the outer security cameras. Staying silent, she watched Shepard get up and pace up and down. There was a slight wobble in her step.

"Why is it you keep interrupting..."

The cup was comprised of ninety-two percent coffee, eight percent vodka. "Shepard, I am concerned for your physical health. You have not been sleeping much lately. I suggest you go find Doctor Chakwas."

"She's not here, you stupid robot!"

"A robot has a physical form. I have none beyond the AI core on Deck Three."

Shepard sighed. One way or another, she was going to fix EDI.

Garrus had been banging on the airlock for hours. No luck. Shepard was obviously asleep. He could get a link to EDI, but she wasn't answering. Busy with something, she had said. She couldn't open the airlock, on Shepard's direct orders.

"Tali, could you-"

"I already tried that, Garrus. No amount of omni-gel or backdoor entry or garbage data is going to get this thing open. Unless you're willing to pick the lock with those talons of yours," she said, perhaps or perhaps not grinning behind the mask.

Garrus turned to Joker. He hadn't really expected him to come up with a solution. In fact, more than likely, he was just going to-

"Hey, I guess everyone needs their beauty sleep."

-Make a wisecrack.

"Shepard, the crew has already returned from-"

"SHUT UP!" Shepard was burying herself under the covers of her bed. She was too sad to think of anything else other than how she was buried under these soft, comfy covers, while poor Garrus was out freezing in space or god know what. She couldn't help but just stay where she lay, under those warm blankets. Were they cotton? They had to be cotton, right?

EDI opened a link to Garrus. "I can give you access to the emergency exit."

"Thanks, EDI."

Sometimes he liked to think that Shepard was just lost sometimes. That she was there, physically, but just wasn't paying attention - all aboard, and nobody home.


	2. Sheparazzi

**(002) "Sheparazzi"  
****CHARACTERS: Conrad Verner (feat. Darby and Garrus)  
WORDS: 262  
RATING: K  
GETH KILLED: 17,448  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Crit here! I plan on doing several Conrad ficlets in AANH. I love Conrad, altohugh he's annoying as hell in-game. But his character could be explored so much! He'd BETTER be in Mass Effect 3. And with a larger role than he had in ME2. Not a large one, but still. A full side-quest that involves more than just talking to one person then coming back.**

Conrad Verner was waiting.

It wasn't fun, he had to admit, but it was well worth it. He _had _to bring this news to the galaxy! Or, at least, to rest of the Semi-Official Unofficial Unlicensed Commander Shepard Fan Club, of which he was President, CEO, Treasurer, and Head Secretary (he had a special desk for that one). His legions of adoring fans were always on the extranet forums, digging up any information they could find to add to their blog.

I mean, the galaxy _needed _to know! Commander Shepard... was wearing a new helmet. What if it contained some top-secret military technology? That part, though, he could understand had to be kept from the fans. Who knows? What if there was some evil stalker among them, plotting out Shepard's every move? Such information couldn't be allowed to fall into the wrong hands! He was fairly certain, though, that Shepard would know that she'd be able to trust him with such intelligence.

He snapped a photo with his camera. Omni-tool cameras weren't good enough for the Commander. Only top-of-the-line, hi-res, fifty-megapixel shots. Nothing below that was of a high enough caliber for his Commander.

She looked so amazing in that helmet. And he was about to get a better shot too! She was moving closer. And closer. And closer. And closer...

"Garrus?" she said.

The turian nodded. It was none other than Garrus Vakarian! Wow... Conrad had gotten lucky. But what were they talking about?

"Remind me why I ever talked to that man," she said, pointing to someone in Conrad's direction.


	3. And She Was

**(003) "And She Was"**  
**CHARACTERS: Shepard (feat. Liara, Adams, Garrus, Wrex, Ashley, Chakwas, Joker, and a huge window)**  
**WORDS: 827**  
**RATING: T (Implied embracing of eternity and one [maybe two, I can't remember] F-bombs and other minor cursing)**  
**WORLD'S HIGHEST GAME PRODUCTION COST: $130,000,000**  
**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some of you may be wondering why I include the random statistics. It's because I can. And by the way, that one's true: **_**Star Wars - The Old Republic **_**is th emost expensive video game ever made. Anyway, this fic is jShep dying. That's it. PLEASE DEAR GOD PLEASE REVIEW MY FICS. Also, the title comes form an old Talking Heads song which has nothing to do with this fic, but the title is cool. I'm thinking about adding summaries to the headings of my stories. This is the first draft, by the way. It's not as good as some of the others I've planned, but it is the first serious ficlet. I tried to mainly focus on the structure and imagery for this one. Been done to death, this death. Figured I could give it a new spin. And yes, I know the grammar is most likely incorrect for the lat part. I did it on purpose, though I'm not sure it worked. Enjoy!**

Everything is totally fine.

Better than fine, actually. It's the best time of her life. The galaxy loves her, she saved the day... there's a slight downside, though.

They're sending her to fight _geth._ They'd refused to listen to reason; they just dismissed the Reapers. Luckily her team trusts her, though.

Garrus smiles as she walks past. Congratulates her. Says he is glad to have her.

Glad to have her as a best friend. She smiles back, asks him if he wants to go out sometime for a drink.

He'd love to, Shepard.

* * *

Wrex is doing his own thing. Standing. He likes her a lot more now. Sad. He's gonna leave soon. Says he realizes the genophage doesn't mean shit - his people just need a leader.

Bear hug.

Don't tell _anyone_. Urdnot Wrex must be strong.

Who says huggin' ain't strong, she asks?

He laughs. Shepard...

Wrex.

* * *

Ashley is still cleaning her guns. Always tip-top shape. Have to be; she doesn't wanna be a Williams.

She wants to be Ashley.

For just a moment, Shepard thinks she can see her praying.

* * *

Adams is sad. What's wrong, Adams? He motions over to the floor beside him.

Nobody's there.

* * *

The elevator is slow.

Why, Shepard wonders, is it so slow? You could be outrun by a tortoise, and the power woulnd't even have to be at critical levels.

She misses Tali'Zorah. Tali'Zorah vas Neema, more specifically.

She's used to her talking about the hum of the engines while they're on their way to the Mako.

* * *

The med bay is quiet. Shepard remembers being in here only a month before.

Crushed under the remains of Sovereign. She's hurt. She doesn't scream. She just crawls out. Whatever.

Chakwas patched her up.

They're planning on using that brandy to celebrate. Or, at least, Shepard's planning to. And Chaakwas doesn't have to worry - it will be Shepard's last drink for a while. Besides, it's only been an hour or so since her last supper.

* * *

The cargo room is dim.

Liara's skin matches the computer screen. Not for long, however - it gets shut off.

Two things in the room remain turned on.

Eternity isn't the only thing Shepard's about to embrace.

* * *

The mess isn't the same without Alenko. She misses Alenko. Not in the sense that she'd miss a friend or even a sibling...

His presence is gone.

She sighs. It wasn't right. Everything went horribly wrong back on Virmire. She knows she could have saved both of them.

But she doesn't need to think about that. Everything is totally -

* * *

_BRACE FOR EVASIVE MANEUVERS!_

* * *

- fine. No, it isn't, she'd like to think it is, but it isn't and she can't think it so; she won't think it so - (the fire is glowing in her peripheral vision) everything about that would be a lie; a big lie, just like the Council saying the geth were the problem.

Joker can handle the geth. It's a geth ship (no it's not), so he'll just do some fancy three-sixty-over-and-under-super-duper-triple-jump-flip-aerial-barrel-roll and they'll be fine, since he's not good he's not even great he's the best damn helmsman in the Alliance fleet. There's smoke in her eye. She runs, gets her helmet, puts it on. It fits perfectly.

It's cold and snug-tight. So is Liara's. She's panicking. Says Joker won't leave.

Screw Joker. He's failing. No, wait - she said that about the police at Mindoir, and she knows that they were doing their best. Like Joker.

Shepard sees Liara to the pods. They shoot off. Boom. Boom. Boom. _Normandy_'s got dakka. Not enough to match the juggernaut ghost. Shadowing them over Alchera, the dreamtime.

The colors of Uluru's surface make a nice contrast to the blood on Shepard's boots. Alchera sits there, beckoning.

Elevator's no good. Shepard runs to the stairs. The fires are out here. It's beautiful. She walks.

She walks. She breathes (what a waste of oxygen); it's so _zen_. Wow.

The forcefield contains what little oxygen is left on the ship. Joker won't leave.

She does it for him. She's about to get into the escape pod, but the stars are calling, sitting there, mocking her. She can hear her mama calling for her.

Shit. She's flying! Quick, press the button (beep - Joker goes bye-bye). She can't think. The ice is clouding her vision.

All she can do is laugh. She always thought it funny when the people in the vids got spaced. The stars are sitting; mocking.  
The stars are sitting; mocking. The stars are sitting; mocking. The stars are sitting; mocking. The stars are sitting

* * *

;mocking. The stars - wait. she's not in her armor. Oh god, it's worse this time she thinks - I'll boil alive. I'll...

boil. She's already doing it! Wait, no.

It's sweat. She's stuck to the bed.

Oh. Now she sees.

She sighs. Leave it to Cerberus to give her a giant gateway to _deep fucking space._


	4. With a Name Like Smuckers

**(004) "With a Name Like Smuckers..."**  
**CHARACTERS: Garrus and Shepard**  
**WORDS: 576**  
**RATING: K+**  
**AVERAGE AGE AMERICANS FIRST KISS: ~13**  
**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I decided to add little summaries. They're the italics in the center. And DEAR GOD why won't anyone review? I suppose it's because there are only three ficlets and I have a habit of not finishing my stuff... or maybe I need to review other peple more, huh? Best viewed in one-half or three-quarters format. And a quick correction: In the second paragraph, Garrus means "wrapped up." EDIT: Typos corrected.**

_It has to be good._

Garrus was truly horrified at what he was currently seeing. It was just creepy, really, how they could smear that odd paste there on the squares of grain. He had hoped Shepard would have an answer.

"Shepard, can I ask a question?" Garrus asked as he walked into her cabin, makning sure to step as loudly as possible to alert Shepard to his presence. Shepard was "wrapping" as the humans said (or at least, that's what he thought they said), in whatever she was doing on the computer.

She didn't take her eyes off the screen. For a moment, Garrus thought she didn't hear him, and he called out, "Shepard, could I -" at a high volume when he was derailed by a slender, pale finger being raised.

If he squinted, Garrus could see it shining just a bit. Greasy, or something.

Shepard turned around, straddling the chair in an awkward fashion. Her legs we streched around the back of the chair and all twisted together. She certainly did have flexibility, yes she did. (Garrus stopped the next thought before it started.)

She was smiling. He could never get used to that; not really. He knew what it meant, and it wasn't so much the actual smiling part he wasn't used to - in fact, he _was_used to it - it was Shepard's smile in particular. He ignored it, though, and repeated himself once more: "Shepard, can I ask you a question?"

Her smile closed up and shifted to the side - a "smirk." "Well, you just did, Garrus. So I'd say you're able to ask questions."

"Uh..." He stopped. Something was bothering him. He wasn't sure what. Maybe it was how Shepard was stuffing her face like that. She kept on shoving these red strips - bacon - into her mouth, broken up by pieces of the grain-squares.

...Which had that strange gelatinous paste on them. It was red. Eww. Look liked some poor creature's innards. He was about to throw up...

"You okay?"

No. He wasn't. He shook his head. She walked over, still holding that... stuff.

"Garrus, are you sure?" He looked at the red gelatin-paste. she didn't seem to get the message.

"Shepard, put that... _thing_... away!" he yelled.

"What?"

"That!"

She held up the 'food.' "The toast?" So that was what they called it. He made a mental note. "Why? It's just -"

"What could you people possibly be thinking? I know I like to eat meat, but that's just disgusting; mashing animals into that stuff! How could you eat that? What IS -"

She put a (red, sticky) hand up to his face. "It's just jam."

"Jam?" he echoed.

"Yeah. And it's not animal guts. It's mashed up berries. Well, I mean, they like cook it or boil it in a certain way or something, but that's all it is. Just... berries."

"And you put it on those... toasts?"

"Yes, Garrus," she chuckled, "we put it on these toasts. It's just Smuckers jam."

Smuckers. Garrus thought about it for a moment. "Are there other kinds of jam?"

"Yeah, and they make dextro-jam now too! You should try it. I think Tali has some... But always go for Smuckers. Nothing else is worth it. Besides, they're the only ones who make dextro-jam flavored like human food."

"Oh... I see... but... what makes Smuckers better, exactly?"

She smiled. "Oh, Garrus... you just gotta remember - with a name like Smuckers, it has to be good."


	5. Reapercussions

**(005) "Reapercussions"**  
**CHARACTERS: Joker (feat. Shepard and Harbinger)**  
**WORDS: 211**  
**RATING: T**  
**VORCHA BLOOD SPILLED DURING WRITING PROCESS: 7.1 GALLONS**  
**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I don't know. I felt bad for not posting another chapter. Don't worry, several are in the works, but they're all longer than the previous ones. They'll hopefully be better. They're also of a more serious nature than "Sheparazzi" and "With a Name Like Smuckers..." so that should be good. Anyway, this is two things: a crack fic and a literary excercize. It's a direct imitation of "DOOM: Repercussions of Evil" by Peter Chimaera. Yes, I know what you might be thinking (CRIT, HOW COULD YOU STOOP SO LOW?) but fear not. There is a reason. It's mainly for laughs. I know it probably won't be as terribly funny as the original, but oh well. I just HAD to get a new ficlet out and this was it. For those of you who don't know what a direct imitation is, it's basically a really fancy version of Mad Libs. You take a story or poem or other piece of writing and write another thing using the same syntax. (A direct imitation of that last sentnce would be, for example, "I made a robot or android or other type of automaton and fixed another one using the same parts") I don't have a direct like to the original fic, but you can easily google "Doom Repercussions of Evil original text" or something along those lines. and yes, I included the original's bad grammar. What, you though I was gonna say "grammer," didn't you? Silly, silly readers... Anyway! Enjoy! Also, the syntax might not be EXACTLY the same as the original, but it's with I'd say 90-95% accuracy.**

_Joker may be the only one home, but he's certainly not the only one aboard._

Joker Moreau waited. The hologram above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were Collectors on the _Normandy._He didn't see them, but had expected them now for years. His warnings to Cemander Shepard were not listened to and now it was too late. Far too late for now anyway.

Joker was a Cerberus pilot for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the spaceships go by and he said to the instructor "I want to be on the ships captain."

Captain said "No! You will be KILL BY CCOLLECTORS."

There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in this Normandy ship of the Cerberus he knew there were Collectors.

"This is Shepard" the omnitool crackered. "You must fight the Collectors!"

So Joker gotted his M-8 Avinger and blew up the wall.

"HE GOING TO KILL US" said the Collectors

"I will shoot at him" said Harbinger and he assumed direct control. Joker avingered at him and tried to shot him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.

"No! I must kill the Collectors" he shouted

The omnitool said "No, Joker. You are the Collectors."

And then Joker was a Prothean.


	6. Cooking requires food, I believe

**(006) "Cooking requires food, I believe."**  
**CHARACTERS: Gardner and Garrus (feat. Mordin)**  
**WORDS: 648**  
**RATING: K+**  
**CRIT'S GAMERSCORE: 10,215 G**  
**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So... yeah. Remember how I said I'd focus on Shepard? I didn't lie. I'm just not sure how to do that yet. Right now, I just wanna write as many of these as I can before I run out of ideas. I do plan on doing a second part to this eventually, as this isn;t really finished, but I felt like it was better to post now instead of keep everyone waiting and thinking that **_**A3NH **_**is dead, because it sure as hell isn't.**

_All the groceries in the world can't save Gardner from his own blunders._

The mess hall was almost a universally quiet place, except during, obviously, mess. When the alarm came around and the crew was hungry, they all lined up, anxious as usual about Gardner's food.

Today he had a special surprise. The Commander had gone out shopping as a token of goodwill (he wasn't aware it was goodwill towards the rest of the crew and not him) and bought him some new equipment and ingredients. There were still the MREs, oh sure, but now he could make fine turian cuisine if he wanted to... and provided he had a cookbook. Gardner planned to indulge the crew this fine day. He had prepared something special for each and every one of them.

Garrus walked up, his tray in hand. Gardner, frankly, wasn't sure at all how to react. He was never any good at reading aliens. He didn't have any thing against them -he just could never tell what they were thinking. They all looked the same, and they didn't have smiles or anything like that. Something always messed up the facial expressions and gestures. Aliens _always _confused him.They always had too many eyes, or not enough fingers, or weird mouths, or head fringes, or they didn't have faces at all, even, those damn hanar... the hanar, they were just downright abnormal. They didn't even have arms and legs! How did they even move around? They just floated... didn't hanar live in the water anyway? Wait a minute, he was confused again, dammit, and by the time he was back on track, Garrus was right next to him.

"Uh... Sergeant?" he asked. God, there was that.. weird.. echo thing in his voice, and it was always worse when those two sideburn-looking things on the sides of his chin(?) opened up like they were doing right now.

At least turians sort of had eyebrows. They didn't have hair on them though. Were turians birds or lizards? Gardner couldn't ever figure that one out. So far he had decided to just say they were just two-legged armadillos or something and be done with it. Made things easier. Now, what was it that Garrus wanted, again?

"Sergeant? Uh.. Gardner?" Garrus said again. He raised one of his eyebrows at Gardner and clicked his sideburn-thingys, possibly in confusion, because Gardner sure as hell hoped it wasn't irritation. Oh, he remembered the last time he pissed off a turian.

He still wasn't sure if he was ever gonna be able to father children.

"Gardner? Uh.. everyone's waiting," Garrus said, pointing behind himself. Mordin, Tali, and Kelly were all standing in line behind the turian, and Gardner was pretty sure he could see Chakwas and Miranda walking towards him. He had to work fast.. but wait! He'd prepared the food beforehand!

Garnder raised a finger, to which Garrus simply looked over at Mordin, who then said. "Raised index finger. Human gesture. Apologetic, you know. Asking politely for more time. One second, though not literally. Often upwards of five minutes."

"Ah." He looked back over to Gardner, who was busy screwing around in the corner by the oven. There was a reddish glow coming from inside, which he could only assume was fire. He leaned over to the side just a bit, putting his hand on the sneeze-guard to balance himself. He saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Garnder, however, could not say anything even remotely near the same thing. He beheld in front of him an affront to the name of not cuisine, not food, but the person about to eat it. A steaming plate of ashes, with a side of fork.

How he had managed that, Garnder wasn't sure. He knew he had put the dish into the oven to keep it warm... he hadn't turned on the oven. He knew that. Hadn't he?

He looked around frantically, trying to figure out what had happened.


	7. Applied Phlebotnium

**(007) "Applied Phlebotnium"**  
**CHARACTERS: Shepard, Mr. Freeman (OC), and Jason (OC) (feat Rebecca [OC])**  
**RATING: T**  
**WORDS: 1,406**  
**HOW DO YOU MEASURE, MEASURE A YEAR: 525,948.766 MINUTES**  
**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ah, the first Mindoir-based fic. And look! It's NOT about when it was attacked! No, just me showing Darby's personality and backstory. And yes, I know that what happens in the story would never work in a REAL school. Mr. Freeman just really likes Darby because she's smart, unlike most of the other kids. By the way, Jason and Rebecca are named after two characters on a Mass Effect roleplay I'm part of. Anyway, this is supposed to be a bit longer than the rest. This fic, by the way, is the first one written in first person! Also, that one fact right there proves that **_**Rent **_**is bullshit.**

_Every action has an equal and opposite reaction._

__

_"You're a slut," Jason says. "You're a cheating whore," Jason says. "I bet you're probably hax mind-sex with one o' them blue people right now," Jason says._

I keep telling Mr. Freeman about it, and yeah, I guess he does try his best to get Jason to stop, but no matter how many times he 'has stern talks' with Jason or 'take disciplinary action' or whatever, Jason just acts like even _more_of an asshole.

I can't ever pay attention in class anymore because I'm too busy making sure Jason isn't copying off my notes or bugging Rebecca or me or some other kid.

I know I'm not the only one he screws with. Wait, no, why did I say that? That sounds like.. ugh! You know what? Fuck it. I'll just start over. Or no, better, I'll try to pay attention this time.

* * *

"So, if force equals mass times acceleration, then mass equal what, exactly?" Mr. Freeman asks us as he scribbles down something on the wall. I've never gotten used to that. Mr. Freeman keeps saying how 'teachers didn't always have all these fancy gadgets and holograms and such,' and that 'it's good to take advantage of better technology' but 'sometimes the old way is better' or something. I don't know. All I know is he can't play extranet videos on it. He's got these weird markers or whatever.

I personally think it's just that we live on some backwater colony in the middle of fucking nowhere, so nobody gives us any money to buy new stuff. I mean, the other teachers are all using textbooks still. And we don't get out own datapads. We have to borrow them from the cart. I don't really see why we even need to do that, though, considering we get a wifi connection at school and we can just use our omnitools. Speaking of omnitools, I'm pretty sure that right now Jason is just using his to watch dumb videos. There's this new one where some guy photoshopped a varren head onto a kitten and it goes around barking at people and stuff.

The least he could be doing is searching for the answer to the question. I mean, this could be Jason's big moment to prove he's not stupid! Nobody else is raising their hands...

And I think Mr. Freeman's noticed. "Anyone? Can _anyone_tell me what the equation for mass is?"

You know, I can practically hear crickets chirping. I wonder if there's an app for that.

* * *

"It's been two minutes, and somehow nobody knows what the answer to the question is. Somehow, none of you have been paying attention," Mr. Freeman says as he turns to me. I can see that little twinkle in his eye. Oh, no, I am not doing this again. No matter how much my teacher begs, I am not answering again. I'm the only one who ever answers. I try to turn away from the front, but then Rebecca's looking at me, frowning.

On the other side, Jason is staring at me.

"Stop staring," I mutter.

He just keeps staring.

"Come on, stop it. It's not funny."

Mr. Freeman walks over. "Darby?"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Now I have to answer. Then everybody's gonna say I'm a teacher's pet or something. Look, I like Mr. Freeman, don't get me wrong. He doesn't ever yell at us or anything like that, and he doesn't give us a ton of work to do. But really, I'd rather not be labeled the teacher's pet. Do you know how humiliating that is? Look, it's not fun, I'll tell you that much.

I think I could use this to my advantage though. "Actually, Jason was just telling me the answer."

Now I KNOW I saw Jason blush just now. I saw it! I know I did! He's blushing, right now! Just look at that smug little grin on his face! He's... wait, smug little grin? No, that's not right. That's not supposed to be a grin... Dammit, why can't anything ever go right.

He sighs and looks down for a moment. "Yeah, I was just telling Darby that mass is equal to, uh" -he looks down again- "...force divided by, uh.. A. I- I mean accelration. Yeah, that. Unless,, you know, it's subjected to the mass effect. I'm sorry for talking in class, Mr. Freeman, but Darby's been bullyin' me into givin' her the answers."  
Rebecca screams out, "Bullshit!" then immidiately retract the statement. "I mean, uh... that's.. not.. true."

Nice save, Rebecca.

* * *

Mr. Freeman walks away and keeps an eye on Jason. He glances over to me for a moment. He looks disappointed. What, does he believe what this asshole is saying? I call bullshit!

And Rebecca's getting chewed out, while meanwhile Jason is sitting there talking to his 'friend.'

"You showed her. Look at her, man, she's all shocked or whatever."

"Yeah," Jason says. He looks at me and smiles. "You gotta keep your bitch in 'er place, man. You know, it's kinda sad she's whoring her answers offa me. I mean, she's already enough of one."

I can't believe this. I tap Rebecca's shoulder. I need Mr. Freeman to get over here and hear this! I mean, they're practically broadcasting it for the whole planet to see!

"Ain't she one o' them bionics or whatever? Shouldn't she know about that shit already? Can't she like, read people's minds or whatever?" He leans over and looks at me. I guess I'm creeping him out, because now he's whispering something in Jason's ear, and Jason giggles like a little girl.

Then, guess what? Jason leans out and holds up his arm while Mr. Freeman is turned around. That smug little bastard didn't even know the answer. He just looked it up on his omnitool.

You know in retrospect, I really should've expected that. The thing that pisses me off though is that Mr. Freeman gives us grade for participation in class discussions too, so Jason's gonna get credit for sitting there and typing in 'force mass equation' or whatever.

* * *

By the time Mr. Freeman finally finishes riding Rebecca (well, I guess not really riding her. I mean, all he did was give her a warning, so...), Jason is at it again. This time he's.. I'm not really sure. All I know is that he's not doing what we're supposed to be doing. Of course, I got stuck with him as a partner for the experiment. We're using this little sample of eezo to change the mass of some little car and slide it down a ramp.

"This is lame," Jason says. "Hey, make it fly or something."

It takes me a minute to realize he's talking to me. I shake my head. "No. Can't you just do the work? Look, it's not even that hard! Just put the numbers into the grid! Like THIS," I say and lean over to enter the data we've collected into the datapad.

Jason's grinning. I'm just doing his work for him again, so I stop in the blink of an eye.

"Mr. Freeman," I call out, "Could you please get Jason to actually do some work?"

He walks over, and Jason immediately starts playing with the little cart thing. "Darby, Jason is actually working very diligently as far as I can see," he says as Jason sticks up his middle finger at me while Mr. Freeman is busy looking down at his clipboard.

Jason grins and whispers to me, "Whore."

"Darby, he is providing an excellent example of the mass effect phenomenon. Perhaps you could do the same?" Mr. Freeman says, winking at me. "Now I have to leave the room for a minute. Please, Darby, get back to work. I'd like some sign that you've learned something about the mass effect phenomenon and how it effects force and acceleration in turn when I get back."

He leaves the room.

"Yeah, Darby," Jason says. I turn to him. "You gotta provide an example."

"Oh, I will," I say. Jason glances nervously at my arm.

It might be because it's glowing.

"Hey, uh.. Darby? You, uh... you don't have to make the cart fly you know..."

I shrug and thrust my hand outwards towards Jason, opening my palm. Before he can even think of making a wisecrack, he's covered in 'bionic' energy and flying at the wall.

Mr. Freeman barges into the room and looks at Jason, who is firmly embedded into the sheetrock.

"You know, Miss Shepard, I'm going to have to take you to the dean's office. But I can at least give you an A. That was an excellent display of how a mass effect field can change how forces act on an object at rest."


	8. Into the Void

**(008) "Into the Void"  
****CHARACTERS: Wrex  
****WORDS: 436  
****DISINGENUOUS ACCUSATIONS MADE DURING WRITING PROCESS: 12****7  
****AUTHOR'S NOTE: So basically this is what Wrex says at Shepard's funeral. That's it, really. Not sure why I picked Wrex, but I'll do the other characters later on. Just wanted to do something non-game, because there's a lot of in-game ficlets coming your way. Anyway, please review and tell your friends about this fic! Thanks for reading, it really means a lot to me. I mean, I've gotten three hundred hits on this story alone already! Nww for the story. PS: Everything in bold is the command line. And yes, I know omnitools most likely don't use a command line by default, but I can't exactly do ASCII art of a GUI, now can I? And yes, I posted this without doing the rest of the eulogies. I just figured it was high time I posted SOMETHING. I'll do the others later.**

**Please review, because I know you're reading.**

**Oh, yeah, and don't worry, guys, the next chapter of **_**Combat Evolved**_** will be up before Christmas. Don't expect Chief to actually get off the Autumn, though, until probably February. You know, I'm amazed. You'd think most people would be able to escape a ship pretty quickly, but Chief takes three years just to get to the lifeboats.**

_I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it._

**Booting system... System booted.**

**Checking for available storage mediums... Storage mediums found.** **Please select a storage medium.**

**]: mount [C:]**

**Mounting Drive C:... Mounted.**

**Initializing OS... Initialized.**

…

**OMNI OS v6.7 (Build 3612)**

**Copyright Sirta Foundation (C) 2184. All rights reserved.**

**LAST LOGIN: Thurs March 17 2185 06:32:07 [USER: Supershep]**

**]: search [filter: (only)audio / (location)extranet / (keywords) commander shepard funeral eulegy normandy crew]**

**Searching...**

**Searching...**

**Searching...**

**Searching...**

**Search completed. Showing results applicable to keywords. Spelling error detected, refined search to keyword "eulogy". (If you meant to search for keyword "eulegy" enter command "search -last parameters -denyautocorrect".) Found 138,000 results.**

**]: refine [filter: (tag)news]**

**Refining search... Search refined. Found 12,537 results.**

**]: refine [filter: (site)Citadel NewsNet]**

**Refining search... Search refined. Found 77 results.**

**]: show results 15**

**Showing results 1-15...**

** 3**

**]:download 1-15**

**Downloading...**

**Downloading... Downloaded.**

**]:play **

**Playback initiated... Buffering...**

Let's get something straight right now. I'm not here for you people. I'm not here to mourn your loss, or anyone else's. I'm not here to pander to you and your cameras and microphones. I'm here to do one thing, and one thing only. I'm here to set the record straight. And I'm not doing it for your sake. Hell, I'm not even doing it for my sake this time. This is for Shepard. This is for her and nobody else.

This isn't some eulogy or something. We don't do that on Tuchanka. We honor the fallen, but we don't ruin their name with sob stories about how they'll be missed. We honor them with tales of their actions and their choices. You humans don't understand that. Neither do the turians, or the asari, or the salarians. Only do the krogan... and her.

I will admit, though, that it was hard to believe she was dead. She was a great warrior. She was a leader. How she got killed, I'll never know, since the Council is bent on covering it up as usual. I hope you realize that only serves to prove her point even further. But whatever. There's no sport in beating a dead pyjak.

Shepard understood that. She understood how things worked, and she got the job done. She didn't stop for politics and bureaucracy. I may not have liked it when she'd try to talk people down instead of just getting it over with, but she still got the job done. And I can respect that. So should you.

**]: stop**

**Playback stopped.**


	9. Waking the Dead

**(009) "Waking the Dead"  
CHARACTERS: Shepard  
WORDS: 357  
GODS SLAIN: 36,433,926  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not much to say. More stream-of-consciousness bullshit like (003) "And She Was." This time, let's take a look at the inner workings of Shepard's mind as she pops out of her non-coma during the two-year span of the Lazarus Project.**

_In which the early riser needs more sleep._

There is an arm in front of her face. It is pale, milky white like porcelain, like the band of the Milky Way against the night's sky, and immaculate, but she remembers it being dotted with scars. A cat scratched her on her way from school. She burned her hand trying to cook the Christmas dinner. Jason clipped her with a rock. A slaver managed to tear open her shoulder with his omni-blade. She jumped off some piece of rubble and bashed open her elbow during training.

Where are all the scars, like the stars of a galaxy and the dots in a coloring book and streaks and scuff marks on her house's hardwood floors? She looks away, she can't bear oh, oh god, the light hurts her eyes, she reaches up and blocks it, then another arm moves into her field of view, touches her hand, pushes it aside, and attached to the other arm is a beautiful woman with hair black as her armor and eyes that are blue, but not a deep blue, not Alliance dress blue, but sky blue, shimmering sea blue, asari blue (Liara blue - she got a chance to know that blue very well).

Her hearing starts to come back, and off to the side, away from where she's looking (she can't quite move her head, she reaches up towards her neck with her other hand, and she can feel the cold metal of her implant at its base, but wait, this isn't her implant, this isn't an L3, this is new, she thinks, but when did I get this?) she hears a voice, she's not ready yet, he says, and the woman above her looks to him and screams and her ears start ringing so she can barely make out the woman saying, give her the seda-something, she can't hear the rest, and there's a cold sharp thing in her arm and the blue-eyed woman stares at her, into her soul, she doesn't trust this woman, what's her problem, and she feels the rush of cold liquid medicine in her veins as she lapses back into the infinite darkness.


End file.
